Gruff
by McGeesJabberwock
Summary: After the fairy tale, Big Billy Goat Gruff's siblings are captured by a demented Troll Queen and a tribe of goats at war offer their help. But what happens when the troll from the bridge returns and Big's mind is haunted?
1. Prologue

**Note: **This story is not only about the Three Billy Goats Gruff, but is also about Henrik Ibsen's play Peer Gynt, with a little HP Lovecraft homeage.

Also, this story contains swear words, violence, blood, occult meddlings and references to rape, so be warned.

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* * *

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**Prologue**

"Who's that trapping over my bridge?"

The Middle Billy Goat Gruff froze in his tracks as the infamous troll leapt from under the bridge, its slimy-blue scales matching the water it emerged from, its tail swishing to and fro in anticipation.

"I'm the second Billy Goat Gruff, and I'm going up to the hillside to make myself fat."

The troll stared at the goat with its single eye, attached to a thin stalk that rested atop its reptilian head. "No, I'm going to take you away!"

"I'm sure you'd prefer my brother. He's much bigger, and there'll be more for you to eat."

"Very well." Trolls were such idiots…

The Middle Billy Goat Gruff walked across the bridge, rather pleased, yet surprised at his narrow escape, while the troll crept under the bridge like the lizard it resembled. The Big Billy Goat Gruff stared at the bridge in determination, and made his way towards it with his head held high. The bridge creaked and groaned under the goat's hooves as he sauntered across.

"Who's that trapping over my bridge?"

That line, repeated for the third time with grisly brio, set the stage for the troll to leap out yet again, this time with its jaws wide open, revealing fangs that glistened with saliva. It leapt into the air, its claws stretched out in hopes of digging into bovine flesh. The goat leapt too, his curled horns butting straight into the troll's gut. It fell over backwards, and as it made its way off the ground, it saw the Billy Goat preparing for the coup de gras. He ran towards the troll the second it had lifted itself up, and knocked it right into the cascading river beneath the bridge.

The victor of the battle between goat and troll peered over and watched his defeated adversary as it was swept away by the gurgling river, hopefully never to be seen again. The large goat gave a slight chuckle at the reptile's fate, then walked away proudly to his two siblings. He munched away at the grass on the other side, knowing that this blissful grassy utopia will never again be disturbed by another troll.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Well, I still say it was a stupid idea, Big!"

Middle moaned once again as he was forced to hear his older brother Big regale him and their sister Little with his epic victory against the troll for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, this time, as a bedtime story, of all things.

"Yeah, Big," said Little, "we've heard it a million times and it's _boring_. It happened _yesterday_, we remember it!"

"But, I beat a _troll._ That's something to be proud of!"

Middle rolled his eyes and groaned. "It was a _real_ bright idea. Never mind the fact you were putting your own _life_ at risk, you had to put me and Little in danger as well! If you were so sure you were going to beat that troll, why didn't you go _first_, rather than have us waltz across and try to talk _reason_ to a vicious carnivore! I almost wish he had eaten you…"

"Hey! Just because you couldn't be bothered to fight the troll yourself…"

"Because we have a little thing called _common sense_."

"Yeah, Big, so stop being so annoying!"

"_You're both annoying_! Now let's try and get some sleep!"

All three goats sighed and lay on the ground, each attempting to get some shut-eye. Except for Big. Ignoring his brother's tiring bickering, he stared at the sparkling stars and the crescent moon grin in the sky, entertaining himself with fairy tales made up in his head, in all of which _he_ was the hero. He could still see the surprised look on the troll's hideous face as it headed towards the raging river. He fancied himself as a courageous warrior, fighting the grizzly trolls of Scandinavia, menaces to goat and human alike. Trolls to the left of him, trolls to the right, all drooling and laughing. Some held spears, some had bows and arrows, all of them had their jaws wide open, licking their slimy lips with their forked tongues. Both Middle and Little shuddered in the corner, as a particularly tall troll neared them with claws outstretched. Big was ready, tearing open the attacker's stomach and stomping his hoof down on its disgusting face. Both Middle and Little cheered, but before they could celebrate for two long, several trolls wielding bows and arrows neared them. They fired, but Big leapt into the air and kicked their faces, knocking out their teeth. The trolls were now frightened and retreated back to the hole from whence they came. The people cheered and laughed and Big became…

He chuckled a bit at himself. Perhaps he _was_ being a bit too big-headed. Perhaps he was taking this thing a bit too far. Yet he couldn't help it really. It felt like the start of something _bigger_…

With those thoughts in mind, he lay on the wet grass and drifted slowly into sleep.

* * *

That damn goat…that _damn_ goat… 

It should have been so easy. All she asked for was one goat. _One_ goat. Goats are simplistic, stupid creatures, and are scared stiff of trolls. It should have been so easy. But then some cocky little goat butted him over the bridge and sent him into excruciating pain. He blamed himself really; he thought she would prefer a bigger goat, the bigger the better. He could have just taken that little girl goat and be over and done with. But _no_. He _had_ to be greedy. He _had_ to make a big spectacle. He found himself hitting his head a rock, frustrated at how_** stupid**_ he had been.

Now here he was. The Dovre. In the village of his species. He once thought of this place as home, a warm, safe haven in which he could find comfort, food and shelter, secured away from all human eyes. Now he actually saw it _through_ human eyes, and couldn't help but feel a chill down his spine. It was dark, it was damp, and the flaming urns to give light and accommodate his species' cold-bloodedness didn't exactly do much to calm him either. The entire village sat uncomfortably in the inside of a huge mountain, complete with spiders and various other 'lifeforms'…ugh…

He had to meet her right now, though. He had hesitated enough, and if he hid from her, she would _find_ him. It may have been night, but she never slept, not when she had business to take care of, appointments to keep.

He made his way through the place she called home, through the stone corridors with the blazing torches, right into her domain. She sat there, still as if she were a statue. She lurked in the darkness, in a way, it made her feel more comfortable, but her unblinking eye shone through

"You've taken your time," she said in a cold voice, her eye narrowing, "A day should have been enough time. In fact, I feel I was being rather lenient."

He felt a huge lump in his throat. "But…"

She crept off her throne and walked slowly towards him, her claw reaching for his body. "But _what_? I felt I was being patient with you, I gave you a simple task. I had recently found out about that area and how it was a _breeding ground_ for those _beasts_. One goat was all I asked of you and it should have been simple…"

"Why…why are you concerned about these goats anyway…"

"Many of them are plotting against me, I know it. They just can't accept their position in society…"

He guffawed loudly, covering his mouth with his claw as a desperate hope that she didn't hear it. Goats forming a resistance? It was ridiculous…

"_It is no laughing matter_! Don't you care about the fate of _your own species_? I may have just the thing that could aid us, and I won't let anyone ruin, not even stupid bovines. All I needed was one goat, _one goat_, to deal with them, and you couldn't even do that…"

He couldn't help it. He slugged her right in the face. He hit her and she fell over backwards. "I'm sorr…"

"Spare me your apologies," she snarled, her voice growing fiercer with every syllable, "I'm beginning to wonder why I ever gave _you_ of all people the task. You left me when I needed you. I was _suffering_ and you _ran_. And you said you loved me…" He just stood there, paralysed, watching her make her way off the floor as her eye met his. "And I give you a second chance. What's more, I give you the chance to experience sunlight. And how do you thank me?" He bit his lip tightly, not speaking a word or making a movement. There followed a long moment of silence between the two. "What are you standing there for?" He didn't answer. "Do you think I'm going to _kill_ you?" His only response was some incoherent mumbling. "Jut run. Run away like you did before." He did as he was told, slipping away backwards as she spoke. "Because if I see your face around here again…"

He got the hell out.

He ran from the village which gave him a sense of dread and returned frightful memories into his head, into the outside world where there was little food and he would be persecuted by human and goat alike.

But where could he go?

* * *

Morning came. 

The sun shone down on the ground, making the dewy grass and the wide rivers sparkle. As it slowly made its tedious way to the pinnacle of the sky, the Three Goats Gruff rose from their sleeping spot, under the shadow of a rock. Little awoke first, leaping about in her usual hyperactive manner, yelling "Wakey, wakey!" to her two irate brothers, who groaned in irritation as they pried open their eyes.

After they awoke, Big made the suggestion that they go to the site of his heroic battle for breakfast.

"We're only going there because the grass is good," Middle had to say, "Not to honour the _conquering hero_, geez."

They made their way across lush fields to the gurgling stream where they faced the reptilian beast (they searched the area again and fund nothing, which made Big hold his head high), they crossed the bridge, which creaked and groaned again as Big crossed and began to feast on the plentiful grass; there was enough to make them last the whole day.

"Ahem." The three siblings looked up and saw, on a pathway leading up the hill, a group of goats, the most noticeable of them being white, like the Goats Gruff themselves, but wearing an eyepatch and limping on three legs, struggling down the hillside. "I'm very pleased to meet you," said the one-eyed goat, "My name's Andreas."

"Well, hello," said Big, somewhat surprised by Andreas' sudden appearance. He actually hoped that these goats were here to congratulate him on the troll's defeat, but kept that idea to himself.

"Do you know the significance of this hillside?"

"Other than the good grass…" said Middle.

"The grass here is plentiful," continued Andreas, "because it is fortified by the souls of the members of my tribe who gave their lives in furthering our goal, for the good of the great Shub-Niggurath."

Big looked at the older goat in curiousity. "Shub-Niggurath?"

Middle groaned. "Oh, I've heard of that. It's all crazy religious…"

Andreas looked above and gave a proud poise, ignoring Middle's remarks. "The Black Goat with a Thousand Young. We are her children and she has given us a duty to do."

Andreas was about to continue when none other than Little interrupted him. "Why are you that way? With the missing leg and…" Andreas' grim expression immediately silenced her.

"My tribe and I have _suffered_...at the claws of the Queen…"

"What queen?"

Andreas sighed and shook his head. "The Queen of Trolls. We have been at _war_ with her and her kind for so long…" Big gasped, but Middle let out some angry-sounding laughter.

"See, Big, see what you've got yourself into. The trolls have a queen, a fucking _queen_, and I bet you've pissed her off by fighting that troll. I told you we should have ignored him…"

"You always find some way to criticize me, don't you?"

"Wait!" Andreas came between the brothers. "You fought a troll?"

"Yeah," Big replied, "he was right under that bridge two days ago."

"_Days_?" Andreas gasped, as did the group he brought

"What?" said Middle, "It was bright daylight when he fought him, what's…"

"You fools!" barked Andreas, leaping as he did, "Trolls are supposed to _avoid_ sunlight! They find it lethal!" He grunted and groaned, staring away from the other goats. "A battle strategy lost!"

"Let's go," Middle sighed, about to leave when he noticed Big seemingly mesmerised by the proud tribe of goats comforting Andreas. "Big, come on, this guy's _crazy_. Let's not bother him. Big, you're not going to get anything _out_ of this…"

Big sighed as him, his brother and sister left Andreas to his own devices.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Never again, Big, _never again_."

Big, Middle and Little trotted away from the bridge, trying to ignore Andreas' frustrations and the supposed significance of that grassy hill. Middle, all the while, mocked the old goat and his beliefs. Shub-Niggurath indeed!

"Um, Middle, don't you think you're being a bit too…"

"You actually feel _sorry_ for that old coot? Big, he's nuts. I mean, are you gonna join that little 'tribe' of his or something so you could be killed by that Troll Queen, if she isn't a figment of his deluded little mind?"

"You just like to complain, don't you? It actually sounds…"

"Oh, come _on_. We're _goats_. You really think we could amass an army and destroy those lizards? Being a goat is meant to be a _simple_ existence, you moron! We don't wage war on monsters, _we just eat grass_."

"Well, don't you ever want _more_ from life?"

"No I don't. I'm _happy_. Don't go thinking that bridge thing was meant to 'foreshadow your destiny' or any of that crazy shit. You're just a goat, and so is he, and both of you are mad for thinking otherwise."

Big chose not to respond to Middle's remarks, but instead told off Little for humming too loudly. She always did that when they argued.

"Let's just forget the whole thing ever happened. Let's just get back to our _simple_, _uncomplicated_ lives." With that, Middle lowered his head and sighed, with Big's only response being a pompous snort. Little just continued humming.

* * *

_Trond rode on his mighty boar,_

_Entered the blazing hell of the war,_

_Wielding his sword, he made armies fall,_

_Over the bodies he stood tall…_

That had always been her favourite poem._ Trond of the Valfjeld_. She never got tired of reading it, and with every re-reading, she would either imagine herself witnessing the mighty Trond upon his powerful steed, mercilessly leading millions of humans to their death, or even in his place. She fancied herself a warrior, a creature to be feared and spoken of in hushed tones.

The Queen of Trolls. That was all she was known as. The Queen of Trolls. The Troll Queen. The Queen. Queen. She had no 'real name', and if she did, she had long since forgotten it. She knew that quite a few trolls had them, even her father, but her present moniker suited her fine.

She put down the book on her lap and instead stared at the fireplace, watching the flames glide up in the air and prance around like energetic devils like doing so. She then looked up and stared at a portrait of her father, his smug smile beaming on his painted face. King Brose. The Mountain King. She used to take some form of solace in him, as daughters usually do their fathers, but now looked at the portrait with a mixture of anger and determination. He was useless. Utterly and entirely useless. She would never forgive him for…

Thank goodness he was disposed of.

Though she would dispose of a whole lot more…

A grunt snapped her out of her train of thought as she saw a brownie holding a tray of food in its hairy arm, its other dragging on the floor. The Queen grabbed the tray of food and set it on a nearby end table. The brownie grunted again and lurched off, its knuckles on the ground. As it closed the door, the Queen took a grape out of its bowl and began to fiddle about with it, until she balled her claw into a fist, reducing the grape to a green mush, smeared all over her palm. She licked it off, smirking all the while.

_**FUCK**_. If she was asked to describe her life in one word, that would be the word she would use. It was all _his_ fault….

But no matter. Things were going to get better. She would soon show them all what she was made of, that her species were not to be treated like a common household _pest_. And others would feel her pain. Others would _squirm_ under her gaze, _writhe_ in her grasp. She would be like Trond, marching into battle, sword in her hand…

No, she had something much better than mere swordplay at her disposal. She put _Trond of the Valfjeld_ aside, walked to the nearby bookshelf and pulled out a large, leathery tome from the very top shelf. Magick. _Magick_. The key to her problems, the answer to her solutions. She knew several of her kind that practised magick in some shape or form, but none as powerful or electrifying as the spells revealed to her in this tome. She knew of no troll that was able to summon and bind a daemon to work for their own means, and, of course, no other troll before her had found a way to undo the curse that had plagued them for so long. Many of them now had the ability to go out in daylight, thanks to a special potion. She had already taken some, as had her army and someone she _didn't want to think about_. Ah, yes, that would be it. Through this, she would be one step closer to obtaining her goal. Through this, she would be remembered and honoured for countless generations, known as the saviour of her race and loved by all…

Love. _**FUCK**_.

She longed for love, caring, something to make her days brighter. Those who should have gave her love all _ran away_, even – _especially_ – when she needed it the most. She didn't want them back, though. If they wanted her to suffer alone, let them. They'd suffer themselves soon enough. Soon she'd have all the love she could ask for anyway. All thanks to her perfect plan…

But those goats – _goats of all things!_ – thought it was their _duty_ to see her fail. They were no better than those humans, those that stabbed her kind to death just because they were out looking for some food or because…just because. She turned towards the fireplace again, the flames reminding her of another fate that befell her kind. She couldn't close her eye without seeing an expression of shock frozen on the corpse of her brethren. Now goats were following in their footsteps, motivated by a sheer urge to see her kind dead – to see _her_ dead.

_But all that was going to change_…

* * *

While her brothers were more interested in taking a breather, Little had decided to prance around the countryside, listening to the playful birdsong and observing the scenery. For a minute, she thought that she would look for a grassier area for her and her siblings to feast in. That way, they'd probably pay more attention to her, and perhaps take the moniker 'Two Billy Goats and a Nanny Goat Gruff' into consideration. Yet she immediately forgot that goal when she saw a butterfly, gliding through the air. 

Likewise, she forgot the butterfly when she saw the troll.

It looked like the troll from the bridge, in a way, except shorter and fatter, and with dark green scales. It also donned the regal costume of a herald, complete with a horn. It wasn't alone either. A group of trolls marched forwards, wearing armour, and wielding shields and spears. A large cage clattered in one troll's claw.

"Ahem," said the herald, clearing his throat, "you are under arrest by order of the Queen of Trolls. Come along quietly, or we will be forced to resort to intimidating measures."

Little jumped a mile, screaming her head off. "BIG! MIDDLE! HELP!"

The two brothers ran to her, both of them gasping at what lay before them. Big, however, couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement.

"Great…" said Middle, "This has been _such_ a day!"

"'Ey," said a troll, "We've got_ three _goats 'ere. The Queen'll like _that_!"

"But she said she only wants _one_."

"Well, maybe she'll feed us the other two for a job well done."

Big charged towards the herald, screaming with anger. His horns pressed tightly into the troll's stomach as he tumbled backwards, dropping his horn. "Irritating little beast," he snarled.

"If you really want to be the hero, Big…" Big turned around to see his brother and sister pursued by an armoured troll, about to grab Little's tail with its outstretched claw. Big began to run when another troll grabbed him from _his_ tail. It laughed, spraying saliva all over Big's face, then threw Big onto the ground – just for the hell of it. He leapt off the ground and charged again, leaping for the troll's breastplate. It simply sidestepped out of the way, whacking Big's forehead with its spear. When Big fell on his stomach, another troll kicked him, bringing the goat face to face with his siblings, now tightly cramped in the trolls' cage.

"You're _really_ useful…"

"Oh, shut up."

The herald returned, dusting off his elegant attire. "Unless you want to join them, I suggest you stay out of our way." Big would have charged again, but this time, felt it would be wiser to restrain himself. This didn't stop that damn troll whacking him in the back of the head for one last guffaw though, which knocked him unconscious.

"Are you alright?"

Andreas, sounding like a grandfather, was the first thing Big heard as he came to.

"What happened?"

"Well…I don't know how…there were these trolls…"

"I knew it! They're responsible for _everything_, they are!"

"Well, these trolls, they…"

'Listen!' A masculine voice, emanating from nowhere, interrupted Big. 'If you want to see those two goats again, then meet me at the bridge tonight, and she'll discuss their release. Don't worry, they'll be kept alive, for now, anyway.'

Big felt a chill down his spine from hearing that voice. It sounded like nothing he had ever heard, not from goat, human, or even troll, sounding somehow demonic and inviting at the same time.

"Who are you?" Big managed to wheeze out, shuddering on the spot.

"Myself."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Your majesty!"

Darkness engulfed the Queen's throne, leaving nothing visible in the inky shadows except a glimmer of her eyeball. However, upon hearing of her soldier's arrival, she lit a nearby candelabrum, allowing her to have a good look at her prisoners, and vice versa. Middle and Little, held back by leashes in the herald's grasp took a look at the Queen and gasped. They didn't know what it was but something about her made her seem…_different_ from the other trolls they had encountered. At first, they thought it was the fact that she was the first female troll they had encountered, with a curved body and eyelashes like spider's legs, but a gut feeling told them otherwise. Maybe it was her throne, decorated with statues of boars and snarling wolves, or her dress leaving the arms bare. Whatever it could have been, she still left the two goats with chills down their spines and dry mouths.

"Ah." She lifted herself off the throne and walked towards her two prisoners. "_Two_. Good."

"Hear that?" said a guard, "We did good! We _pleased_ her!"

"_Shut up_." The guard stood silent. "Take them to the dungeons. Their leader should arrive tonight. We'll end this silly little rivalry once and for all."

"Come along." The herald yanked the leashes as he and the guards descended down a spiralling staircase into the murky dungeons. A particularly strong guard lifted both goats by their stomachs and threw them into a cell, their heads banging against the stone wall. With the click of a key, Little did the only thing she could do: whine and make Middle's imprisonment even more torturous.

* * *

"When mankind was in its infancy, the great spirit of Shub-Niggurath rose from the earth to observe these new creations. She was pleased at what she saw so she decided to give humanity a gift. She raised her hands and formed from the mud a thousand goats all over the world to supply the humans with food, milk and materials."

The story of the goats' spirit guide, Big thought, had some strangely fascinating elements, although the thought of being formed from mud felt a little disturbing, but he still would rather hear about troll-fighting then parables…

"The demons were enraged that a spirit had given the humans, which they despised, such a gift, so from their violent and hateful thoughts, they created Jotun, the horrible giant to destroy the gift as well as Shub-Niggurath herself. But she grouped the goats and humans to fight Jotun and banish him to the mountains of the Dovre. He lay in solitude until he died, and with his final breath, he created a race of reptilian monsters from the sweat of his armpit."

Big felt like he would vomit from hearing Andreas' account of how trolls were created, but still, it was _appropriate_.

"Many years later, my grandfather met Shub-Niggurath. She recounted the entire story of how she brought us a great gift to mankind and told to make sure her deeds were never forgotten. She then told him to gather all the goats he could and rally them into aiding the humans in their battles, thus, this tribe was born."

After the little encounter with the troll army and that mysterious disembodied voice, Andreas had taken Big back to his 'base of operations'; a simple cave, with stalagmites protruding through the floor. Andreas had told Big that this cave was near the place Shub-Niggurath slumbered before she was introduced to humanity, and this, thus, was a constant reminder of their goal.

Andreas, while giving Big the usual dull exposition-related drabble, suddenly leapt and stood on his hind legs, waving his one foreleg about. "Our goal is to show that we are not mere _beasts_!" He leapt in front of Big, acting like he was holding a sword. "_We_ can have the heart and soul of a _warrior_."

Something inside Big told him that perhaps Middle was right; this goat was nothing more but an eccentric old coot. Considering the parables and creation stories, they did seem very absurd when he thought about it. The humans' theory, that a god named God created all animals at the same time, made a lot more sense. Yet Andreas' enthusiasm, how he had all these other goats hanging onto his every word and even the way he said '_Warrior_' made Big feel almost as energetic as his little sister, in a way he couldn't explain. Staring at the old goat's good eye He even felt the strange urge to leap in the air as if he were battling with a sword as well.

Andreas gave a chuckle. "Let's have a fight."

Big bent down his head, as did Andreas, then they collided, tussling with their horns. Big thought this would be an easy task, especially given Andreas' 'condition', but he struggled under his weight when trying to move forward. With a mighty thrust, Andreas pushed Big over on his backside.

Laughing, Andreas helped Big up. "You've got to try harder than that, if…" The laughter immediately ceased, replaced by a regretful expression.

Big fought Andreas one more time, losing again, then listened to him tell a few more stories, this time concerning his tribe's victories. How his father knocked a troll attacking a fellow goat unconscious until the sun came up and the troll crumbled to stone. How he saved a human from a female troll disguised as a beautiful woman through magic. And of course, how he lost his leg and eye to the current Troll Queen, who smirked and cackled as he writhed in pain.

"Well…" said Big, after hearing _that_ tale, attempting to think of _some_ way to comfort the poor creature, "I…"

"**Enough**!" Andreas cried with zeal, "It's getting dark, we should be going."

Both Andreas and Big trotted away from the cave, down the rocky path, straight to the place where Andreas' tribe was buried and Big had his encounter.

'Hello.'

Big asked again, "Who are you?"

'Myself.' Big snorted in irritation.

"Is it possible to speak to the Queen herself about this matter?"

'It is.' A cacophony of bird-like screeches dominated the air, blowing gusts of frenzied wind into the faces of the two goats. The wind seemed to take on a life of its own, as Big felt long fingers that he couldn't see wrap around his stomach. The winds blew faster and stronger, lifting both Big and Andreas into the air. Big tried his best not to look down, which would only make his stomach churn more. Andreas had a straight face the entire time, which just made Big feel all the more uncomfortable, so he closed his eyes tightly and tried to think of better things.

Upon opening his eyes, he met with the snarling face of a wolf.

Silly Big. It was just a statue. There were two of them, standing in front of a grand staircase. Candelabra illuminated every nook and cranny of the room, yet it still felt dismal and sinister.

"Hello." A door, near the right wolf statue squeaked open and the Queen herself emerged. Her single, unblinking eye fixed itself on Andreas as her tail twitched slightly. She didn't seem to notice Big's existence.

"We have come here to discuss the prisoners' release."

She sighed. "Come with me." Big and Andreas followed the Queen into the room from which she had emerged from: an elegant dining room, with a table that a hundred people could sit at, the wall lined with paintings of other trolls and an array of candles slap bang in the middle. No one sat at the table except a small creature, a shroud draped over its body that made it look like a ghost. The Queen sat at the head of the table, under a painting of another female troll, adorned with myriad jewelry. "Sit." Andreas sat on her left. Big sat further away; he couldn't bring himself to sit anywhere near her or that small thing.

"Have you ever heard of the legend of Fenrir?" The Queen gestured to the stone faces framing her and the portrait behind her. "Some people of the village say that someday he will be awakened and devour the humans, leaving only trolls. I personally don't believe it, as _delightful_ as it sounds, but nonetheless, he has been a symbol of my family for years."

"We don't care for foolish myths," barked Andreas, "Why have you captured this goat's brother and sister?"

"I had to. You didn't think I actually _enjoyed_ it, did you?" Big snarled, knowing she meant the exact opposite. "I mean, the humans claim their God had to kill his son before his doctrine could be taught."

"**What about the prisoners?**" Andreas jumped onto the table, his face right in the way of the Queen's.

"Oh yes," said the Queen, her voice lacking any kind of emotion, "I want to show you something."

As she said that, a hairy lump entered the room, a tray of food in its hand. It served the Queen a plate of meat, with grass for the two goats. Andreas returned to his seat and munched on the grass.

"What I propose," she said, holding out a piece of parchment, "is a peace treaty."

Almost choking on his dinner, Andreas blurted, "What?"

"This war between us has been going on for long enough, and to be frank, it's all a bit silly." A burst of mocking laughter escaped her throat. "You think you can be just as experienced as humans when they've got weapons, experience, and most importantly,_ fingers_? How ridiculous."

"We want to fight beside the humans…"

"You shouldn't care about _them_. What have they ever done for you? _They've certainly never done anything for me_." The table shook as she slammed her fist on it, which terrified the little creature. She took a deep breath, and then continued, "Follow me." Big, Andreas and the small thing followed her out of the dining room, and through another door on the bottom floor. "Behold." Flasks and pipes, holding glowing liquids of many colours, which bubbled with glee.

Big spoke up, his face grimacing, "And what are _those_ supposed to be?"

"Many of my family have studied magick, but I'm taking it further than any of them have done."

"And what is _that_ meant to mean?"

"I am tired of my species being forced to hide in dingy, dank, sunless _caves_, because we were _cursed _to find sunlight fatal. We're reptiles, we _need_ sun!"

Andreas grunted. "A curse well deserved. But I have heard you managed to lift it."

"True. Now I am going to show the humans that my species is _not_ one to be messed with. That curse has caused so _many_ _**deaths**_…" She slammed her fist on the wall, her facial features twisting. "But _no more_. Using these potions, I will cast the curse upon the _humans_." Both goats gasped. "It will be the dawn of a new age, where trolls will rise as the new dominant species, and you goats will be a part of it too."

Andreas stepped forward. "What the _**hell **_do you mean?"

"I mean that my kind won't your kind anymore. You will be _citizens_, our equals, you will be above those humans. They don't _care_ about you, they just want to _eat_ you. In that sense, our species aren't really all that different. And seriously, with that missing leg and eye…"

"It's _**your**_ fault I lost them!"

"…I'd have thought you would have realized how _moronic_ you're being."

The energy. That energy from Andreas' enthusiasm returned to Big, but it felt _different_. The Queen had caused its return, and it kept demaning Big to use its power against her. His body took on a life of its own, running towards the Queen, leaping into the air and butting her right in the stomach, sending her tumbling backwards, and thus knocking over the table. The flasks smashed to the floor, hissing and bubbling. Emerging off the ground, fiercely growling, the Queen tightened her thin claws around Big's neck and throttled him as he spat in her face.

"_That's it_," said the Queen through clenched teeth, hurling Big at Andreas, "If that's the way you're going to act, you can _forget_ about having those two back." And with a wave of her finger, the two goats found themselves back at the bridge.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"La la _la_! La-dee-la _la_!"

As if her whining and wailing weren't bad enough, Little had begun to compose her own music in hopes of keeping her spirits up. She was definitely no musician, Middle thought. However, in a way, it did serve as a distraction to his new surroundings. The cold breeze that dominated the surroundings, the cold, damp stone walls, and these small, black _things_ crawling all over the ceiling.

Their humanoid structure and their grinning teeth clearly showed they weren't spiders.

As two of those creatures tittered at the two goats' plight and crawled over to the next cell, the Queen herself, along with her shrouded creature, descended down the stairs. She held in her claws a lump of hay for Middle and Little to eat.

"You had better make yourselves comfortable," said the Queen, baring her teeth, "you'll be staying a while."

Middle looked up at her. "What?"

"Let's just say your brother isn't the most pleasant of guests…"

"That_ idiot_!" Middle growled, which caused the small creature to take refuge behind the Queen's legs. After pushing the hay between the bars, Queen and her little pet departed, leaving the two goats alone.

"Ugh! He can't talk things through or act _at all_ like a normal person. He has to be a little twat! The trolls have a fucking Queen, and what does he do?"

"Middle! Stop being so mean!"

"_Stop being so mean_. Well, what am I supposed to be when I'm captured by some crazy bitch, locked in a dungeon with bloody black things crawling over the ceiling and my one chance for escape is _screwed up_?"

"Middle…"

"SHUT UP! Singing like an idiot isn't going to get us out of here and it just makes things worse!"

Little began to cry again, as Middle tried to get some rest.

* * *

The Queen slumped herself down on a sofa as that little creature of hers made its way to bed. 

"Boyg?"

A groan echoed through the halls. 'What is it?'

"Don't take that tone of voice with me! You're _mine_!"

'The Great Boyg is no-one's. You just bound me with spells.'

"Anyway, have you cleared up the mess in the lab like I told you to?"

'It was your own fault for allowing goats of all creatures into your palace. They always make a mess.'

"I had to. Those goats are becoming such a nuisance."

'The Great Boyg remembers that you were more concerned with the humans.'

"Of course! The goats are just a minor irritation, the humans are the ones that truly need dealing with."

'And why, may the Boyg inquire, is that?'

She cringed. "I've told you, it's for the good of my subjects. They would be thrilled if the humans were to become a lower lifeform. I remember one woman told me about her husband going out to pick some berries and he was attacked…"

'It's more than that, the Great Boyg knows.'

"Stop referring to yourself in the third person, it's irritating."

"Your subjects mean nothing to you, they are empty automatons just there to be ruled over."

With that, the Queen sprung off her sofa and gave the Boyg a fierce stare. "LIAR!"

'It's about _him_, isn't it?' She fell back onto the sofa, sighing heavily.

"Maybe it is. Now shut up about it."

'The Boyg was there, it was a fond memory…'

The sofa fell over backwards with a thud as the Queen ran upstairs, trying to ignore her servant's words. Still, the memories came flooding back to her, looming rebelliously in the darkest corners of her mind. When she met that young man…he said his name was Peer Gynt…

No! _NO_! Banging her head against the stone walls, she attempted to force the memories out of her head. Her father…that bastard…she was an innocent victim. There was a dearth of troll kingdoms, and there was no-one for her to marry. A shame…she remembered dreaming about marrying a handsome, kind troll prince and living happily ever after. Hah! Pathetic childhood fantasies! Her father had a different idea though…

The Queen stared at a portrait of him on the wall, and slashed it in half with her claws. The man had a _lot_ of ideas, none of them worth a shit. He claimed to have found the difference between human and troll, and through this, some humans were truly trolls. To man, to yourself be true. To troll, be enough. She didn't believe it for a second. She was never _enough_. Each day, she grew more and more. _More_. She knew the true difference: trolls like her were victims, spoken of in hushed tones as monsters, to be hunted and feared, never respected.

Humans? _**LIARS! HYPOCRITES! COWARDS! THE LOWEST SCUM!**_

And that fateful night only proved it…

One of the most popular magic tricks for female trolls was to wear a special cloak that made them resemble a beautiful human. At first it was just to go out in public but then they thought of a more _delicious_ alternative. They would approach men out walking and seduce them to their doom. They would push the lusty fools off the edge of cliffs, drown them in the depths of fjords or just stab them. Why? The same reason _they_ were hunted: just for existing. Indeed, the Queen knew poor women that had been beaten half to death when the tail under their dress had been noticed.

She had to use that magic. She _had _to. The only way 'Prince Peer' would accept her before speaking with her father. He may look human, said father, but he is a troll internally.

She came to him as a green-clad woman.

He said he'd never beat her.

"Black it seems white, and ugly it seems fair," she said.

"Big it seems little and dirty it seems clean," he said.

She actually loved him. That reminiscence made the Queen feel like she was going to vomit. She _loved_ an arrogant human. She rested her head on his shoulder and actually anticipated… Immediately she wanted to forget and just continue her life. The memories still continued and refused to stop though, causing her to collapse on the floor.

They rode on a bridal steed – the most beautiful boar in the kingdom. Peer didn't find this strange; maybe they _did_ fit. Maybe they would have happiness. Maybe later she would reveal her true reptilian form and he'd still accept her…NO. Get away from him! Kill him! Go back to your home and forget he ever existed, damn it! You idiot!

When father saw him, he was pleased. Well, he _would_ be. Come to think of it, those two were just alike. They were both despicable creatures, stupid and useless little twats. At the mountain, all hopes of Peer being an ideal husband melted like butter, into a thin and disgusting mess.

He felt like he could just stand there and mock her kingdom, her species, _her_, as if it were his right and due. The other trolls should have killed him like they said they would! When the musicians played, he called it, "a bell-cow with her hoof on a gut-harp strumming!" The nerve!

"And this we must hear and put up with, when I and my sister make music and dance."

The Queen immediately snapped out of her memories. Her sister! Yes, she should play with her sister. _That_ would make her feel better!

Her sister was always in the courtyard, and when the Queen played for her, she laughed and cheered.

From the music room, the Queen grabbed a small lyre, one of her favourites, and hurried down to the courtyard, where she lay there in waiting. The second Queen saw her, she lay in the grass and started to play.

'What are you doing?'

Oh _no_. "Go away. I'm playing for my sister."

'How can a _stone_ be your sister?' A graveyard in a courtyard. An unpleasant eyesore. 'She's _dead_. Accept that.'

"No she's not."

'And as the Boyg recalls…'

"SHUT UP!"

'And what about your broth…'

"I SAID _SHUT UP_!" The Queen returned to her quarters.

* * *

"You _idiot_!" After that little encounter with the Queen, which led them back where they started, Big found himself facing Andreas' wrath. "Why couldn't you control yourself? Now you've gone and made her mad. Your siblings are probably _dead_ now." Big felt a huge lump in his throat at that remark. His brother and sister may have been somewhat unbearable, but he still _loved _them, as is the law of things. But now… 

Images of their deaths flashed in his brain. The Troll Queen, with a blazing red eye and thick saliva dripping from her reptilian fangs, unlocking Middle and Little's cell door, scooping them up in her long pointed claws and swallowing them whole, their blood splattering everywhere. It was all his fault. All _**his**_ fault. Just look at Andreas. As tightly as he bit his lip, he still felt tears welling up in his eyes. Thanks to him, his brother and sister of all people, were dead. He would get no cheers, no hero-worship, but would be looked down on and despised. He closed his eyes tightly, both to avoid Andreas' gaze and to hide the tears, weaselling under the bridge as Andreas walked away.

Perhaps Middle was right. Perhaps Andreas was some insane old coot chasing after things he would never achieve. Accepting that viewpoint, however, meant that he would be agreeing with the Queen as well, that detestable monster. _She_ couldn't be right – could she? She was probably torturing Middle and Little right now…and she was so _young_.

He heard footsteps on the bridge above, that sounded so…_familiar._

What Big saw made that certain burst of energy return.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

None other than that troll – _that_ troll – standing right on the bridge. Big didn't know what it was, but something told him that there was no way it could be just another troll, as if he had a sixth sense about his old enemies. The drooling teeth, the snarl…it was him and no other troll. How dare he show his face around here! How _dare_ he!

Big expected him to attack any minute. He should have pounced or charged with wide open jaws and a fierce glare. He stood still, wringing his claws.

Once again, Big lost control of his body, charging right at the troll's gut and knocking him over the bridge. Even as he tried to get up, Big felt it necessary to whack him in the eyeball with his horns. Andreas would be pleased. His tribe could hold the troll hostage. They could get information from him. They could _kill_ him.

Fuck you, Troll Queen…

Damn it. I'm _such_ an idiot.

Why did I leave her? Why am I out in the open without any form of disguise where anyone could come and kill me like the monster I'm supposed to be? Why did I just allow that goat to knock me off that bridge?

Now I've got her mad. She hates me even more now. Hell, she's hated me my whole life.

It all started when Mum died. If I hadn't been born she'd still be alive. She _died_ giving birth to _me_. I remember Dad telling me that when I was born, she locked herself in her room all day and cried.

I used to think she avoided me because I was a boy. I used to think she gave me those heartless glares because I was a boy. Young boys hate girls, and vice versa. Young boys hate their elder sisters and vice versa. She always played and made song and dance with the other sister, but treated me like a common elf. It was my fault though. My fault she lost her beloved mother. My fault father had his 'cousin' for frequent visits…

But she _was_ somewhat happy back then. I had heard her laugh, I had seen her smile. It couldn't have been _that _bad. Maybe some day she would forgive me.

But why would I want _her_ forgiveness? She's a hag, an utter fucking lunatic. She actually thinks she can control humanity! She thinks _goats_ are a threat! And why all this? Because of some fucking human?

I was right there when it all happened, standing right next to Dad. It was his idea, said it would continue his legacy as well as 'prove a point'. I remember her bringing to the mountain that Peer guy, while disguised as a human. I remember trying to avoid looking at her; her human form was just ugly. I also remember that glimmer of optimism I had about the ordeal; maybe she and the human would be _happy_ together. Maybe he would accept her as a reptile, and me as his brother-in-law. The new-found love in her life would make her a happier creature, and maybe she would accept me.

Instead, the human raped her with his _mind_. His fucking mind. The idea just makes me sick to my stomach.

He ran. He ran while being chased by tiny little trolls (why did they call Dad Dad as well?) He wouldn't father her child. He wouldn't stay by her side while she was pregnant – the child wasn't even hatched! I wonder if she ever thinks of what could have been. 'Peer', or whatever his name was, could have been a fine father, a fine husband. They would have ruled together, she could have led a happy life. And perhaps I would have been pleased to be an uncle!

I hate that little brat. Utterly despise him, that fucking bastard hybrid. And he's my _**nephew**_?

She lay in her bedroom for months. I don't think she came out, not even to _piss_. One time I pressed my ear-hole to her door and I swore I heard someone talking to her. I swore she laughed.

Then came the day. _**THE**_ day. It refuses to leave my head, no matter how much I forbid it to stay.

She screamed and howled, twisting and turning furiously in her bed. I tried thinking, '_She's going to be a mother!_ _How wonderful!_' but it just left a sour taste in my mouth, despite never saying it out loud. Trolls, _natural_ trolls, are hatched they said, but since she was pregnant with a human's child, she couldn't give birth unless…

A knife. A knife that gleamed in the light of the torches. Her green blood gleamed in the light of the torches.

WHY? HOW? How can she get impregnated from a human's damn _thoughts_? They say we turned to stone in daylight because of a powerful witch's curse, or because of an angry god's wrath, it changes with each telling, perhaps this is the same as that.

The baby's newborn cry sounded like the unholy screech of a demon. I don't think I ever took a look at it. Our sister ran in.

"Have you given birth? Oh, you…it's…is it a boy?"

Her last words.

Her last words before her sister's claws grasped around her neck and tightened. Her last words before her head repeatedly slammed against the bedroom wall. Her last words before she was reduced to a mere corpse, a lifeless shell of her former self. All the while, the baby wiggled on the floor, tossed there by his mother.

**NO DAD, DON'T GO IN, SHE'S GONE CRAZY!**

The minute he entered, his daughter, his own fucking daughter, punched him right in the eye and kicked him right in the gut. He screamed when he saw the last to die, but he screamed louder as he took more beatings from her. His screams were her delight. SCREAM LOUDER! Your time is done as king, it's time you received what's been coming to you!

Yes, that's right! Nothing's my fault; it's _his_! You wouldn't have met Peer if it weren't for _him_! I'm blameless! DIE DAD DIE! I HATE YOU, DAD!

But I _detest_ you, sister.

After you killed Dad, I ran away from you. I ran from the village and into the world outside. I remember our village. It was such a fine community, where you could meet trolls of all shapes and sizes; green trolls, blue trolls, fat trolls, thin trolls, trolls with horns… Some would sell fruits and sweets, others would show you the pigs or brownies they bred, and I knew one who had dancing elfs. They would never forget to greet each other with a warm smile and a wave of the claw. Now when I look back at them I feel nothing but disgust. All those trolls are monsters and I hate them because of you. I even threw away my princely clothes, so, thanks to you, I run around naked like a commoner…or better, an _animal_.

I'm an animal. That's what I've become after I've run from you. I've slept in caves to avoid the sunlight. I've hunted rabbits and birds, and if I can't find any meat, I eat _grass_. Like those damn goats you're so obsessed with. And yes, humans have chased me, but I survived. If I died, would you give a damn? Hell, one time I met these drunken milkmaids who wanted me to _court them_! You wouldn't give a damn about that either, would you?

I _am_ an idiot. I actually thought you would forgive me and give me a second chance. I actually had the _nerve_ to go back to my former home and see you.

"Get away from me," you said, "Things are bad enough without _you_ returning." At least you recognised me.

To think I actually got on my knees and _begged_! "What have you done for me? Where were you when I was in_ pain_?" And then you burst into tears. You'll be getting no sympathy from me; you never gave _me_ any.

You did give me a second chance though. You gave me one day to find a goat and bring it to you. You said they were trying to stop you; even now it sounds ridiculous. You sent me without weapons or armour or even a cage to hold the animal. I think you _wanted_ me to fail. Did you curse me like you did that human? Why don't you curse the goats then? You gave me sunlight though…

Yes, thanks to you, I experienced sunlight. I must admit, it felt rejuvenating, basking in warm and holy light I had been deprived of my whole life. I saw lush green fields, sparkling fjords, pine forests in all their majestic glory. Thank you, sister.

Fuck it. Maybe it is my fault. I should have taken the little goat. I thought you'd be happier with a bigger one. I had such a headache. _Such_ an idiot…

Dare I return to you? No, I shouldn't. No…you've had a deplorable life and I've done nothing about it. I almost think I made it worse…

_**FUCK YOU**_. I shouldn't feel sorry for _you_! You _are_ a lunatic! A complete and utter _psychopath_!

Sigh. Now I've been defeated by that big goat for the second time, as if Fate is mocking me. I should have just killed him. Maybe I would have been happier.

It had taken all night, but it had been worth it. Big bit tightly onto the troll's tail, dragging him across Norway as he lay unconscious after the 'battle'. Not once did Big ever spare a thought about the likely possibility that he would be attacked by his prisoner, especially not after the way he didn't defend himself. The prisoner was heard to be grunting and groaning, but Big ignored it. Perhaps, thought Big, the troll has learnt its lesson, and will thus be more co-operative. He liked to think he had put the fear of God into that troll, and could now be considered a force to be reckoned with.

The pair reached the rocky path to the goat's cave, and Big tried to take a breather while still biting the troll's tail. Upon travelling to Andreas, Big had to endure several 'ows', which served as a minor – extremely minor – irritation, but when the troll had the nerve to say, "Why are you doing this?" Big cringed and actually let go. As the troll lifted himself off the ground, actually hoping he had been 'freed', Big slammed into him again and bit his tail tighter.

The journey resumed, and soon they came to Andreas, outside, observing the daylight.

"Big?" His one eye rested on the troll, and he immediately began prancing theatrically. "Excellent! Bring it in here!" Big slammed into the troll, sending him into the goats' base, the residents all gasping. "Brothers and sisters in Shub-Niggurath," said Andreas, raising his one front leg, "We have one of the Queen's lowly subjects in our midst. What do you suggest we do with this scum?"

None of the goats answered, still in shock at the troll's presence. Each expected the troll to strike, but he just lay there, letting Andreas pin him down. Big stood with a smug look on his face.

"Stop this," croaked the troll, "I don't know nothing about the Queen." Andreas whacked the troll with his horns.

"We know about her twisted plan already."

"Then let me go!"

Andreas looked deep in thought. "I've thought of what we can do with this beast." Before the troll could even attempt to escape, his head was suddenly slammed into the ground by Andreas' horns. The other goats, their fear quickly evaporating, took part as well, butting into the troll, biting him, kicking him and bashing his head against the wall. Big just stood there, actually feeling rather queasy. Sure, he deserved it, but…

"Tell the Queen we have a message for her," said Andreas, with a fierce grimace, "Tell her that you're living proof not to underestimate us and no more." The troll stumbled away, tears dripping from his eye. "You did good, Big."

I _am_ an idiot. I just let those goats beat me with a smile on their furry faces.

Why didn't I just kill them all? She would have been so pleased with me, she would have forgiven me. Maybe…I'm _afraid_ of them? Afraid of goats? A joke, a fucking joke. That's exactly what I am.

So what do I do? Do I slash them all to pieces with my claws? Tear their heads off? Take a big juicy bite out of them?

I just lie outside the cave and cry.

Then I run away.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Thank you for bringing us that troll, Big," said Andreas proudly, "Perhaps _now_ we won't be underestimated. You're welcome to join us."

"But what about -"

"You mean at the meeting? No, you did good. You postponed her wicked scheme and by _angering_ her…" He leapt up on his hind legs and spun around. "It means we have a _battle_ coming!" He gave a hearty laugh as his face neared Big's. "Come, my boy, let's get ready!"

Big was unnerved at how quickly Andreas had forgotten Middle and Little, who were either dead or in torment. Still, seeing that troll get what was coming to him made him feel better about the situation somehow. So off he went with Andreas, hoping to knock the old goat down as they trained.

* * *

Night fell.

"Middle! Middle!" Little leapt up and down on her brother's body as he lay down on the cold stone floor.

"What is it _now_?"

"I want to tell you a story!"

Middle groaned. "Fine then…"

"Once upon a time…um…there was a princess…and…er…she met this talking flower…and the flower…er…he sent her to fight a giant who lived in a castle…in the sky…"

Oh, hell. Middle attempted somewhat to lose himself in the yarn Little wove from her mind, which was utterly impossible since the great storyteller had no idea what she was getting at, but the mention of dark castles where giants lived did nothing but remind Middle of his dire situation. Damn Big. Stupid little prat. He shouldn't have tried fighting that troll…or maybe the troll should have eaten him.

"The giant said to the princess…I will eat you if…if you don't sing me a song! The princess sung the most beautiful song in the world…"

Shut up Little, Middle wanted to say, singing won't get us out of this. We're trapped here until we die and it's all Big's fault. But he, for once, kept quiet.

Little stopped her story and shuddered. "I want Mummy."

"Mummy?" Did they _have_ a mother?

"Where's Mummy?"

"I…well…" How to talk to a kid?

"Where did Mummy go? Will she help us?"

"Don't ask me." Middle slumped down and tried to get some sleep again, then rolled over in Little's direction. "Do you remember her?"

Little looked close to crying. "No. But I've seen other goats with them and I thought…"

Middle growled, unable to believe he was about to do this, and snuggled up close to Little. She rubbed against his neck as he tried not to vomit from the overbearing cutesiness of the scene.

* * *

A harsh and chilling breeze blew through the corridor which the Troll Queen had suddenly found herself in, which, despite her cold-blooded, sent chills down her spine and caused her nightgown to flutter. At the end, silently waiting for her, stood a large wooden door, beckoning her to open it. She at first flat out refused, but then felt as if she had no choice. She forced herself onto the door as it slowly creaked open, revealing to her…

A younger version of herself, waiting by her sister's egg, giggling at glee at what it would do when it hatched…

Her sister and herself in the music room, making up a song together, until that meddlesome brother of hers interrupts…

All those long nights where she twisted and squirmed in bed, pregnant with that _abomination_. She screamed and begged and pleaded for help and guidance. She had never been a religious person, but through the immense pain she suffered, she couldn't help but remember her species' tales. Some trolls, perhaps out of desperation, believed in Loki, who they claimed created the entire species, and that humanity was merely a mistake. The latter part was definitely to be believed at this period in time. They claimed that one day he would return to Earth to free the wolf Fenrir which would swallow all the humans of the world and allow the trolls to have absolute freedom, which is why the humans tried to caricature him as a 'Trickster God'. She didn't believe in those myths now, nor the human's new myths of a force with the uncreative name 'God'. She had experienced forces that were more powerful and _much_ more beneficial.

'Ask and you shall receive' said the human religions, but from what the Queen heard, they rarely ever did receive. She asked and received though. It came to her room one night in her pregnancy, telling her that to do these things was her _destiny_. She would be told what to do after she gave birth. To think she at first thought it a _dream_…

She saw it all through the door.

Then she saw herself murder the Mountain King. That memory would have made her grin if not for a _nagging feeling_….and her brother ran away in tears. Idiot. He just didn't understand.

Then she saw herself venturing out to find the books that would help her achieve her goal, given to her by –

"Away, away then with nails and planks! No need now for bars against hobgoblin-thoughts."

That moment was suddenly interrupted by the grotesque face of that human, now residing with some person named 'Solvieg' or something like that.

"My king's daughter! Now I have found her and won her!"

Oh,_ has he_?

She came to him, using her new-found magick, disguised as a hideous old woman. He was _horrified_. The Troll Queen chuckled like a young child that had just played a practical joke.

_**HE FORGOT HER**_! "You're drunk, woman!" It's his fault she spent countless months in _**AGONY**_ to give birth to some _**BASTARD**_ and he goes and dismisses it. Her son…no…she loved her son, a precious lad. He brought an axe.

So she went and cursed him. That way, he'd never forget her. In fact, it'll be like she's _always there_.

He should have been killed, no, maybe…why didn't she curse the goats? They were nothing but a nuisance, no _threat_…

Shards of glass rushed towards the Troll Queen as a furious wolf burst through the door, its bloody fangs bared. It moved closer, but she could barely move. She couldn't have been_ scared_…

Out from the door walked none other than her father, hobbling on that crooked cane of his.

"You!" The Queen lunged towards him, ready to strike. _Why won't he die_? Her fist was about to make contact with his face when the salivating wolf pounced on her and pinned her down.

"You are no daughter of mine," he grunted. His voice was deeper and more forceful than when she last saw him, but she knew in her gut it was the same person.

"I know I'm not," she said, spitting on his face.

"You are not fit to rule my kingdom…"

"_Shut up_."

"You lack the _enough_…"

"_**SHUT UP**_!"

"Enough…"

The wolf opened its jaws.

_Enough…_

Her eye snapped open as she threw back the covers. A sudden fury exploded in her, giving her the urge to kill…_something_…

'Did you have a bad dream?'

"SHUT UP!" she screamed again, throwing a pillow at the Boyg, in spite of how futile it was. Perhaps that blasted dream was the Boyg's fault as a way of torturing her. "I can send you back right where you came from, you know." Laughter shook the room.

* * *

Middle still couldn't sleep. As much as he tried to close his eyes and imagine himself somewhere else, something nagged inside him that he was in a dungeon and the only reason he hadn't gotten out was because of his own brother. Little, however, slept like a baby. How appropriate.

What also kept him awake were the noticeable sound of footsteps.

The Troll Queen. Her. Marching downstairs wearing a nightgown and a scowl on her face.

Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she was going to let them free! Or if not…

"Little! Little! Wake up!" He nudged his head against Little's, but the opening of a door was what woke her up. The Queen in all her glory. Middle wanted to run between her legs and escape, but this sudden interruption of his slumber paralysed him. The door slammed as the Queen walked slowly and silently towards the pair. Little screamed. The Queen reached for her. Little screamed. Not wanting to see what would happen, Middle shut his eyes, still paralysed. Little screamed.

Then she stopped.

And she was so young.

Middle just lay there, his eyes bulging, his form quaking. The Queen just left.

* * *

Such a beautiful night.

The first thought to cross Big's mind as he began his graveyard shift, and the thought he tried to keep focussing on. Still it forced Big to think of trolls, their Queen, his siblings and their fate. Still images of Middle and Little screaming in fear and agony flashed in his head. Still he kept thinking that Andreas didn't even care.

It's such a beautiful night. The moon is full, the trees are swaying in the breeze…

Andreas _was _an insane old coot with no idea what he was talking about. Pure and simple. Goats fighting wars? Shub-Niggurath the goat god? Goats being created by mud and trolls being created by sweat? They all sounded like something out of a bad fairy-tale told by an idiot. And Andreas said there would be a battle coming soon. Big shuddered as he thought of troll soldiers invading the cave.

Look at that moon….

That's it. He was going to leave _right now_. Forget Andreas. Forget _everything_. Forget the whole goat-troll war or whatever this is. He was just going to leave. If all those other goats want to die, let them. It'll be their own faults anyway.

The troll again. _That_ troll. How _dare_ he show his face again! He didn't even seem to know what he was doing.

That famous energy Big used to possess, however, didn't return when he saw the reptile. All the troll did was stare at Big a while, stand up as if about to attack, then just walk away again. All of a sudden, out of the blue, Big gained the urge to kick the troll down again, but restrained himself. Although that brief appearance of his old foe reminded him why he was doing this. Trolls took his brother and sister, so trolls must pay.

* * *

The Troll Queen couldn't sleep. Thinking a walk would help clear her head and give her time to think about things, she left her village, donning her normal wear: a purple sleeveless dress that reached to her ankles, a tiara under her eyestalk and a pair of slippers that matched her dress. Watching the swaying trees and rustling grass, she realized that she had spent so much time enjoying the daylight she had forgotten just how beautiful the night could be. At that point she didn't care if anyone saw her in her true form or their reaction. Even her plans and her troubles had been forgotten during this moment.

After much walking, listening to the sounds of rivers gurgling, the wind blowing and owls hooting, the Queen came to a large fjord that sparkled in the moonlight, where she sat on the edge. As she stared at the sparkling waters, she popped off one of her shoes and placed her foot in the water. A strange calm spread all over her body, instantly replaced by a _rush_. Off went her other shoe, and she stood in the water up to her heels, looking at her reflection. She looked beautiful. Immediately, for reasons she didn't know at the time, she took off her tiara and her dress, revealing her naked form. She kicked her legs in the water, watching the droplets fall off her toes, then took a deep breath and dove right in.

Trolls were natural swimmers, normally lurking in waters to catch prey, the colours of their scales blending in with the water. She didn't intend to hunt, she only wanted to embrace the fjord and let it wash away her worries. Kicking her legs frantically and thrusting her arms, she felt like she was exploring an unknown place, with secrets and surprises to unlock. After swimming around the fjord in search of its wonders, she rose, reaching for the moon hanging proudly in the sky, which silhouetted her as she raised her arms to welcome the heavens.

Her brother saw her rise, having stumbled round the area randomly, and his breath was almost taken away. For the first time in ages, she thought of her not as a monster, not as an insane demon, but, as the moonlight reflected in her wet scales, as an _angel_. He actually had the courage to walk up to her.

The Queen swam to the surface and looked at her reflection for a while; looking at herself without royal apparel made her think for a while how things would be if she had been born a commoner, without the huge responsibility and the troubles of the past that her position gave weighing down on her shoulders.

The troll again. _That_ troll.

Recently, she thought she would be furious were she to see him again, but now was just embarrassed by her nakedness, despite his lack of clothing, so she immediately slipped her dress back on as she saw him, staining it with water.

They stared.

He looked nervous, twitching and biting his lip. "I…"

They stared.

"I…I'm sorry."

Sighing loudly, she slumped her shoulders and rubbed her face.

"I know you are." Her response seemed to have no emotion.

They stared.

"Sist…"

Suddenly, they ran to each other, wrapping their arms around themselves, both glad to have a shoulder to cry on.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Something woke up Andreas, but he didn't know what. He didn't hear a loud noise, nor did he need to piss; he just awoke. Deciding to take advantage of this sudden awakening, he walked out of the cave to check on how Big was doing. As he peeked his head out, he noticed Big pacing back and forth, obviously struggling to keep awake; in fact, he looked at Andreas as if he was expecting him to relieve him of his duty. All Andreas said was "Good," and go back to his cave. Big said nothing in response.

A noise snapped him out of his sleep-deprived state, causing him to frantically leap around, looking around the area. Another troll? That troll? The _Queen_?

Instead, what he saw resembled a female version of himself, except larger and bipedal, with black fur. Contrasting with her fierce black hair, a shining silver dress, fluttering dramatically. On her head, between her long, curled horns, shone a beam of light, the same colour – and substance – as her dress. Her most noticeable feature was the fact that she had fingers; not like any fingers Big had seen: twisted and curled like vines.

"Peace be with you, my son," she said in the most beautiful voice Big had ever heard.

Shub-Niggurath?

Indeed, it could be no other.

"I fear you have been having doubts," she said smoothly, rubbing Big's head, "You must strive and continue your service for the goats. _The Queen must be dethroned_." That last sentence made Big shudder. "You once had such great self-confidence and ambition, now you're beginning to think of quitting?" Big backed away, trying to avoid her gaze. "I am the Goat with a Thousand Young, the Mother Spirit. You owe me your _life_." Please go away, Big said to her inwardly. "I came to Andreas, and he has served me well…"

"GO AWAY!"

Her gaze became colder, and yet so fiery…

That's it, thought Big, I must leave. He ran from the spirit, expecting her to follow, but she seemed to have faded.

A message from above? A hallucination from lack of sleep?

He didn't care.

* * *

Her touch should have been cold and torturous, but now, it felt surprisingly comfortable, as if it offered protection. They held hands together, like good brothers and sisters should, walking together to their village.

"Uh, sister?" She turned to him. "What's your name?" No answer given, she turned around to focus on her destination, unworried by appearing in public in her natural form.

"Because…I tried thinking of some names I heard. I thought Anitra would be nice…" She still seemed to ignore him, though he swore she briefly cracked a smile. "…or Ophelia. Ophelia's a good name. I don't know where I heard it but…"

She actually turned to him. "Do you have a name? Or did you forget it?"

What was he then? The troll from the bridge? Just _a_ troll?

"I thought of…_Fred_. How's that?"

Giggled. She giggled. He actually heard her giggle. It only lasted for a moment, but it gave him _some_ hope.

After much walking, Fred and Ophelia came to a mountain that was _different_. At first glance it blended in with the rest of its ilk, but upon closer inspection, there was a unique aura one could not put their finger on. In order for the pair to enter, Ophelia made a circle with her claw and said some words. Entering the village in the mountain felt strange – as if a hand grabbed you and brought you right in. Fred felt it, and it seemed to wash over him, destroying his every fear.

The village; he was home. Despite Ophelia's meddling, many of the residents still lived nocturnally. A couple of trolls, a horned blue one with a green one, stumbled out of a pub drunkenly, laughing at a shared joke. Two trolls sat at a table as two elfs fought over a lump of bread. Another resident played music, causing complaints from a previously-slumbering woman. One rather portly troll raised his arms, screaming about how the time of the troll was coming; repeating the oft-told tale of how Loki was defeated in battle so humans may rule, as well as his predicted return. The display made Ophelia smile, which brought Fred the smallest pang of dread. Their presence went strangely unnoticed.

They reached the castle, a proud beast standing smugly over the insignificant village it owned. Ophelia grabbed her brother again, tighter this time, as they quickly ascended up the stairs to the front door, where the guards saluted them both. Memories, good and bad, came flooding back to Fred the minute he stepped within the hallowed halls. After an ascent up yet another winding staircase, elegantly adorned with candelabra and armour, the pair came to a door which Ophelia took the liberty of unlocking.

"Your bedroom." Fred entered as Ophelia walked back to her own quarters. How long had it been since he last slumbered here? Cobwebs blanketed every piece of furniture: the tables, the bed and some old toys in the corner. Elfs had settled in and taken over, the small black monsters crawling around everywhere. Fred couldn't sleep here, not at all. Shouldn't his sister have cleaned it out before welcoming him back? He couldn't sleep there, he would sleep somewhere else…but where? Maybe she would be offended if he didn't sleep in that room…

Fred decided to spend his time not sleeping, instead spending his time re-exploring the home he grew up in but left, a home that once lost its homeliness. The homeliness was still to be found though; it seemed to be in hiding. The fiery torches and the empty suits of armour still made him feel like a human that had stumbled into this place by accident, as did the portraits of his father, whose painted eye focused on his son.

Morning came.

Making his way up the stairs with a tray resting in his claws, Fred tried to remember where his sister's bedroom was. After a walk down a hall, he opened the door with his foot, surprising Ophelia just as she woke up. She certainly didn't look impressed!

"Please, I'm not your _mother_."

Leaving the tray by her bedside, Fred grinned sheepishly and started to leave.

"No," she said, "I want to show you something."

"What is it?" He gulped.

"You'll see. Just wait outside while I get dressed."

With a step outside the hall, Fred began to wonder if he would be offered any decent clothing when he saw a small creature dressed in a white garment as if it were dressed as a ghost. His nephew, the mistake.

Perhaps out of curiosity, or out of a love for family, Fred lifted his nephew's shroud to see his face. What he saw almost made him faint: a strange blending of human and troll, deep blue scales crawling over pale flesh, strands of dirt-brown hair dangling from the top of his head, and a single eye dominating the middle of his face. His mother's.

Ophelia exited her room in her normal attire, noticing her two relatives staring at each other. "Oh," she said, approaching her offspring, "this is your uncle." It reached out for him, grabbing his leg tightly. She kissed it and led it away. "Now, brother, come."

The brother and sister walked downstairs until they came to the entrance hall, with the statues of the mighty Fenrir. Fred had never believed those legends, despite the high amount of magick in the troll kingdom, but right now, he thought of what would be if the legends were true. Fenrir could eat up Peer Gynt, and when Ophelia heard, she would be happy! She'd get over her troubles and abandon those mad plans…

The mad plans were exactly what the Troll Queen longed to show her brother: glowing, bubbling liquids in oddly-shaped flasks, all framing a strange book with strange words and strange symbols. The glow of the potions accentuated her grin.

"What's this?"

Her grin grew wider. "You should know."

'You brought back your brother. Quite a surprise.'

"You! I told you not to bother me! Now _begone_!"

'The Boyg only wishes to meet your brother…'

"_Go away_!"

And silence followed.

The Queen turned towards her shuddering brother, crouching on the floor behind a table. "Get up." Her voice became harsher and fiercer, and she had to force him to follow her command with her claws. The claws also proved useful in bringing him to the book. "Read this."

He said nothing. Objections would only worsen his situation.

Instead, he took a look inside the pages he had to read. To him, it was nothing but gobbledegook. He couldn't read _this_…but he had to. So he did. Placing his claw on the yellow pages, he made a noble attempt to pronounce each word, trying to ignore the dread he felt at what this may do. Expectations of devastation and destruction immediately vanished as it felt like he was rising, ascending beyond the clouds, surveying each pathetic little mortal as if they were insects. Something seemed to dance within him, eliminating the tiredness from lack of sleep last night. It felt like he could do anything, _conquer_ anything.

He emerged from the spell feeling rather light-headed, stumbling down on the floor as he lost control of his legs. Ophelia, a warm smile on her face, helped lift him to his feet, giving him a welcoming hug.

"That…that…" Description failed him. "What was that?"

"A demonstration of the power I have earned, more power than any other troll can _imagine_. I'll be a far grander ruler than Father was…"

"_Dad's not dead_."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Continue."

"Where was I – oh, yes, I'll be a far grander ruler than Father was and you'll be with me every step of the way."

"What about the goats?"

She swivelled around, whipping her tail as she did so. "_Them_?"

"They…" It felt like snitching on naughty schoolchildren. The Queen wouldn't think it important, would she? "They be…"

"They beat you?"

His response was a single nod as he dropped himself to the floor again, so Ophelia could lift him up again.

"I'll be dealing with that nuisance tomorrow," she said in a voice that sounded both fierce and comforting, "Then I can move on to _bigger_ things."

* * *

The sun hung, making its tedious way to the pinnacle of the sky as Big watched, munching his grass. He once saw the sun as a creation of beauty, something born to bring new life and joy to a waking world. He never thought he could see it as an object of disgust, as something utterly useless. It offered no protection. Trolls had conquered it. They moved about on earth all the time, never sleeping, always ready to battle, and they always, always win. It's all a game.

Not even the grass offered comfort.

* * *

Ophelia had gone to bed with a smile on her face. Tomorrow her army will attack the goats, ending the annoyance once and for all. Then the humans will pay. They'll learn not to underestimate trolls and to bow before them as their new masters. They'll learn not to impregnate them then leave them alone to raise the brat by themselves.

Fred watched her as he drifted off to sleep, smiling with her as she lay. He begged for forgiveness, and he had received it. What's more, the goats will pay. They thought they could beat him up and think it _heroism_!

Another sleepless night for Fred. Ophelia had cleaned out his bedroom, had eliminated the elfs scurrying around the place, but an excitement, either anticipation for the next day or remembrance of the spell's effect, made him forget sleep. Once again, he found himself wandering through his home, observing every nook and cranny, every cranny and nook. The bathrooms, the bedrooms, the grand dining room, the dungeon…

The dungeon. He didn't know what possessed him to go down here, he just followed his feet. It still brought back memories to him, reminiscing about how he would pretend there were ghosts down there and how he was going to capture them. Even now, he swore he saw ghosts lurking in the shadows, especially that of the portly guard patrolling the cells on his graveyard shift.

What he saw in a cell frightened him more than any ghost ever could.

A ghastly stench wafting brought his attention to that cell where he saw some old friends of his: the little and middle-sized goats he refused to take to the Queen. The little one lay still. The middle-sized one stared at him with unblinking eyes.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

What could he do? He was just a goat.

He saw the sun slowly rise again, still thinking of it as a useless tool. As he watched it crawl up the clouds, he found himself banging his head against a tree. Why, he asked himself, why? Thanks to him, Middle and Little were decaying in the Queen's castle. What of Andreas? Would he be out looking for him? Perhaps he forgot all about him, like he forgot about Middle and Little. People die in war. Simple fact of life.

He couldn't remember feeling that special energy anymore. In fact, all his energy seemed to have drained from him, and his body constantly found itself fighting the tiredness. If he fell asleep, he would see the pale eyes of Little purged of their innocence, replaced with a ghostly void. Fangs and scales would invade his nightmares, as gangly lizards from Hell would rise and kill. All except one. One would be beat ferociously until he cries. Seeing that troll in his mind's eye made him shudder.

Marching.

The Queen! Her!

She sat at the head of a wide carriage, hairy pigs where horses should be. Within the carriage, a small group of troll soldiers – like the very ones that took Middle and Little!- sat and waited. How dare she! She actually had the nerve to go into public without disguise, revealing her hideous glory to all, as if she were certain she would be the new ruler of this planet.

She was going after Andreas. Big could feel it bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

What could he do? He was just a goat.

Big could have done many things. He could have leapt out, scared the pigs and thus delayed the attack. The Queen could have been knocked from her post with his mighty horns.

Instead, he chose to ignore them. Ignore them and they'll go away. There is no Andreas. There is no Troll Queen. They never existed. Middle and Little had to leave for some reason. Thus, he left. Walking for quite a while, he came across a fjord; when he looked at the water, he almost wished to be a fish and swim away.

Shub-Niggurath stood there again, her fingers clutching the shoulder of a grizzled old man, towering over Big.

The man was the first to speak. "USELESS!" was his first word, his first sentence, spoken in a shriek that made Big collapse. Staring into the man's unblinking eyes, framed by myriad wrinkles, Big waited for the energy to return, but to no avail. "You have been proved very useless indeed. But you can still serve humanity." Big raised an eyebrow. "You must become a button. I'll melt you into a button and you'll look sporting."

"You can avoid that fate if…"

Big shouted. He didn't shout anything specific, he just shouted. A cue for the strange pair to vanish if there ever was one.

What could he do? He was just a goat.

* * *

"Andreas! Master!"

So the Queen decided to rear her ugly face after all.

Andreas found himself striking another victorious pose, which usually inspired his troops. The Queen took his eye and leg, all with a smile, and today would be the day she would pay. Goats weren't all simple-minded automatons that did nothing but munch grass, many were warriors, and all it would take to prove it would be this battle.

The Queen herself, followed by a small group of her soldiers (Andreas counted twenty-five) entered the cave silently and slowly, her first utterance being, "You."

Andreas turned, snarling. "What?"

"You can still accept my offer."

He crouched down, as if about to attack. "_No_."

"Why must we fight?"

Somehow, as much as he searched the recesses of his mind, Andreas couldn't find an answer.

"I know what you did with my brother, the poor soul." That troll, _that_ troll, was her_ brother_? It couldn't be. Evil trolls don't have families. They probably eat their young.

She neared him, as did her army. "I don't think of this as a battle," she said while grinning, "I think of this as a _warning_."

A scream filled the air.

* * *

The Mountain King. He was still alive, or at least out there in some form, Fred knew it. The painted face on the wall seemed almost alive, as if it would walk out and touch him. No, there's no such things as ghosts…that's a stupid thing to say considering magick exists. If magick is about, that must mean there is some higher force out there, and creepy supernatural creatures lurking in the shadows…

Not something you want to talk about to children.

When Ophelia went off on her way to fight the goats, she left him with his nephew to take care of. Fred didn't really know what to do with him, really. It was impossible to love this accident. To Fred, it wasn't a living creature, it was merely a hollow automaton which he had found himself babysitting, and in one sense, it seemed to be a souvenir of Ophelia's descent into madness. The thought of killing it crossed through his mind. Did Ophelia love it? If it died, she probably wouldn't care. If it vanished, so would her memories of Peer. They would be a happy family again.

'Go! Run!'

That voice, boring into Fred's soul, as well as irritating him. It came back, just as he thought it would.

'The Queen only wants to torture you! Don't you remember…'

"We were young! She…she didn't mean…"

'Run away! Go!'

"No!" He held tightly onto his nephew, grabbing onto the small creature's claw as they ran out of the bedroom and downstairs.

'It's useless…'

"SHUT UP!" Ophelia hated it too. He heard her.

'What, may the Boyg inquire, do you plan to do?'

Fred, leaving the small offspring of his sister next to a wolf statue, burst open the door to where Ophelia concocted her spells, with its bubbling formulae and strange symbols marked on the walls and floor, and ran to the book.

'Are you planning to banish the Boyg?'

Fred gulped, then gave a fierce laugh. "I'm going to send you right back where you came!"

'Did not the Queen forbid you to touch her possessions?' She did, but Fred didn't care. 'I do her errands and I am of use to her. She may not like me being banished.' Fred didn't listen, instead his clawed hands flicked through the yellow pages, searching for that spell. 'The Queen can only summon one daemon. Once one is banished, she can't have another.' He still didn't listen.

"Aha!"

'The Boyg...'

Fred kicked the air. "Shut up and listen." He read the first line of the spell, then immediately stopped.

'Are you scared?'

"No!"

'Go ahead then, read the spell. The Boyg _wants_ you to do it.'

Fred gave a triumphant smile. "Very well then." He spoke the second line. The third. The last.

'The Boyg thanks you. I need not now bow before your Queen.' It slammed Fred against the wall, knocking the poor troll unconscious.

* * *

"You _idiot_!" The Queen held Andreas, still screaming from the arrow in his good eye, against the cave wall. "I thought you would have _learned_."

Frantic bleating flooded Andreas' ears, as did the sound of goat's laughter. Part of him wanted to see the carnage, to witness what the Queen had in store but another part of him blessed the arrow in his eye. Although he could not see, he knew the Queen smiled at the demise of his tribe.

A word escaped from his mouth, one he never thought he would use isolated: "_Help_…"

"Why should I spare you? You wouldn't do the same for _me_." Her grasp tightened, causing what escaped from his mouth to be limited to chokes and gags. "I tried giving you a chance. I at least let you live when I took your leg and eye, so maybe you would reconsider." Her fist connected fiercely with his face. "But you insist on fighting!" She threw him onto a stalagmite, causing him to howl in pain as he felt its point attempt to penetrate through his body. A foot pushed down upon his body. "This has nothing to do with any god, I know it. It's _arrogance_. I _despise_ arrogance." Her foot pushed down further. Andreas said nothing. "You're nothing more than a goat, a pathetic little simpleton with delusions of grandeur.

"And you'll stay that way forever."

An arrow pierced through Andreas' gut.

* * *

Little still lay on the floor. Those small black things crawled all over her. Middle could not take his eyes off her.

'Have no fear, rescue is at hand.'

Elongated fingers seemed to stroke Middle's fur, sending shivers through his body.

"Who the hell are you?"

'Myself. Now you must leave your sister and rejoin your brother.' Upon hearing the last sentence, Middle's insides twisted.

The fingers that once stroked the goat's fur now held on tightly as the cell spun around, creating an energetic blur before Middle found himself standing in front of his brother, obviously gone without sleep for days. Upon seeing someone he thought dead, Big grinned like an idiot from horn to horn, and stood as if waiting to obtain a hug. Instead, from an energy that just seemed to appear, Middle ran to Big and butted him to the ground.

Big asked, "Where's Little?" What a fucking stupid question to ask. Middle butted him again, which qualified as an answer. "Why…why…are…" Another stupid question, responded this time with a scowl. "I…I'm sorry?"

"_Sorry_? Bastard."

'There is something that may interest you…'

Big leapt in the air as if that would make the voice shut up. Middle sat and listened.

In a literal blink of an eye, the goat brothers stood outside the home of Andreas' tribe, now with a ghastly smell and the buzzing of flies emanating from within. Big froze in fear, while Middle just walked right in, observing every rotting carcass strewn about the place, including that of Andreas. An arrow in his eye. An arrow in his gut. An arrow in his heart. Emerging from his frozen status, Big entered the cave and lay next to Andreas' corpse, as if he were a father.

"It was their own fault," Middle sniffed, "I bet they knew they would die all along anyway!"

Still staring at Andreas' body, Big shuddered uncontrollably.

"Let's go, Big."

"I'm going to get her."

"What?"

'The Boyg would like to see it attempted.'

"She and her lackeys are going to pay."

'That can be done easily.'

"Fine then. Go and get yourself killed. See if I care."

* * *

"What the _hell_ is this?"

The Queen of Trolls burst through the door just as Fred regained consciousness, with claws outstretched and her face twisted in a horrid grimace, revealing her jagged teeth. She had reason though: the room was a complete mess with the potions once again knocked all over the floor, and the little shrouded creature rubbing its head. Gasping loudly, the Queen ran to her offspring, kissed it on the head and held it tightly to her chest, as her brother tried to walk away.

"I've heard tell you freed the Boyg from my control." Fred stopped dead in his tracks. "Magick has limits, you know. I can't bind another daemon, I can't bring back the Boyg, and now he's free to fuck with me as much as he wants. And he let the prisoner escape as well."

"But…I…" An idiot. Nothing but an idiot.

"I knew letting you crawl back into my presence was a mistake. As if I haven't…"

The big goat appeared. He just appeared. That 'Boyg'.

With a swipe of a claw, the Queen knocked over her brother and turned to the shuddering goat. "You've come for some sort of revenge, haven't you?" A nod. The reply was a single scoff.

_That_ troll. In the room with the Queen. The goat collapsed, certain he saw that button-making man behind a table.

"Oh…oh no…" Fred lifted himself off the floor and looked at the visitor. "It's _him_."

The Queen, her spawn under her arm, left and closed the door after themselves.

Fighting this troll, Big told himself, would mean avenging the deaths of Andreas and his tribe. The Button-Maker will leave. Shub-Niggurath will leave.

He would have done something with his life.

Hadn't the troll suffered enough though?

Just look at the fury in his eye.

The troll raised himself off the floor quickly, standing proudly and fiercely, towering over his prey. His fangs dripped with bloodthirsty drool, his claws stretched out, hungry for flesh to dig into and his tail swished back and forth quickly.

Big waited for the energy.

The troll leapt.

Big waited for the energy, which would guide him against the adversary.

It never came.

* * *

"Oh hell."

Sitting on the stairs with her boy under her arm, the Queen of Trolls found herself staring at a wall as if it were doing something interesting. She had just killed all those stupid bovines who thought they could oppose her, which she saw as a warning to the humans; she imagined Peer Gynt's face on that foolish old goat she finished off. What's more, she was going to release her potion and the human race would get on their knees when they saw her face. Something didn't feel right though. It had nothing to do with the Boyg's release or her brother's lack of intelligence. Did it have to do with her father? Or this creature's father? Or herself?

Herself was a hideous creature. Killing poor goats! Meddling in the occult! Killing her own _family_!

Father wasn't dead. There was no way he could be dead. If he was dead, why was he standing at the foot of the stairs.

"You are no daughter of mine."

Shut up father. This is all your fault.

"Because of you, I have lost everything. Starved as a _**wolf**_." Growling.

"I'm not afraid of you or whatever you conjure up."

"That's what you think! You think you have the troll's enough, but you don't!"

"You pretentious…"

"To thyself be enough! But you think things should be improved..."

"And why shouldn't they? Your absence improves things greatly."

"The goat the Boyg brought. He has the enough, as does Andreas. A mere beast and they believe they are expert troll-fighters. Yet you go and kill them."

"With good reason. To teach a lesson. I have one for you: you did nothing for your subjects, you did nothing to improve their lives. I called on spirits and am going to lead my queendom into a new golden age…"

"By having them live like man?"

"What's that meant to mean?"

"You claim to despise humanity, yet you lust after their privileges and possessions. I daresay you're doing this because you want to be human yourself…"

"SHUT UP!"

"What about Peer? Have you not read our newspapers? 'On Troll-Nationalism.' The writer points out and lays stress on the truth that horns and a tail are of little importance, so long as one has but a strip of the hide. 'Our enough,' he concludes, 'gives the hall-mark of trolldom to man,'-and proceeds to cite…."

The Queen lunged towards the King but immediately found herself clutching the hands of Peer Gynt, now donning a single eye and a tail poking from his behind. Both wore shining silver. Still clutching their claws, they circled around quicker and quicker, never to end, forever dancing in the light of the moon, the glowing face of a loving deity. They let go and fell to the wet grass, laughing.

He loved her. Her and no-one else. He was hers and she was his. He didn't care about her reptilian appearance or her protruding fangs. She didn't care about his pale skin or strands of hair. They fit.

They ran to the fjord and swam together. Their naked forms were invisible, as if they had disappeared into nature. Both kicked their legs and moved their arms furiously, admiring the other's technique as they did so. They rose, the water cleansing them of their sins and worries.

Another child. A girl. She looked just like her mother.

The magick. The murders. The arrogant goats. All a bad dream. When she awoke, screaming and crying, Peer was there to comfort her. He put his arm around her shoulder, they kissed and held each other as they slumbered.

The Queen wasn't in any of those scenes. She just watched them as if these figures were actors in a play. That Troll Queen wasn't her and Peer wasn't Peer. Actors.

Sure enough, Peer Gynt's face melted away, replaced with that of her brother.

"I killed him."

"You killed who?"

He didn't respond. He just sat beside her and his nephew, giving the latter a tickle.

"What's going to happen now?" he said.

"Why did you ask me that?"

He stared at her. "I don't know."

They heard noises. They held each other tightly.

"What about that plan of yours?"

"It'll still be carried out. I'll…" She stopped for some reason.

"Look, I'm sorry…" He noticed her head on his shoulder. He noticed her tears.

"_Black it seems white, and ugly seems fair._"


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The grizzled man ran fast and hard, then paused for a moment to think, stroking his tangled beard as he did so. "Time is money," he told himself, in an attempt to push himself to run faster. "If I only knew where the cross-roads are; they may be near and they may be far." Life is so complicated. A lesson he had certainly learned during all these years.

"A witness! A witness! Oh, where shall I find one? It's almost unthinkable here in the forest. The world is a bungle!"

Indeed. He stopped his frantic dash to take a pause and think back on his life. All he saw was a jumble of images, none of them coherent or logical. Except for those of Solveig. Except for those of Ase.

Time is money. Must hurry.

He ran faster, knocking over an elderly gentleman in a cloak. At least, he thought it was a gentleman; it wrapped itself so much in cloth that no real form could be seen – _except a claw_.

"A trifle to a houseless soul." A familiar voice, allowing the man to pull out a certain memory from his thick morass of reminiscences.

"Prince Peer!"

Immediately, the man knew who this figure was, especially from the snout poking from his hood, but still asked, "Who are you?"

The cloaked thing gave a jovial laugh. "You forget me? The Mountain King? Ruler of trolldom?"

'Prince Peer's' eyes opened very wide upon hearing this as his feet planted themselves firmly on the ground. Upon viewing the single eye lurking in the shadows of the hood, he thought back to when they first met, when he stood atop a rock, proudly proclaiming the glories of a troll's life with energy and vigour. Now look at him.

"I've come down in the world. Terribly." Peer placed a hand on his shoulder. "Everything's gone wrong…"

"Dear father-in-law, the years gnaw and wear one…" He was young. That's why he did what he did.

"But his Highness was wise in rejecting his bride. She's utterly gone to the bad."


End file.
